ChrisCBlogger dumps Jessica Rowe!
January 30th 2008 21:44
One minute I’m glowing, sharing my morning with one of the nation’s premier television presenters. The next, I’m jumping up and down on my lounge, feeling used, abused and like I need a long hot shower. I can’t look her in the eye any more, or even share the same room. My innocence torn from my chest and jammed into a shredder, I have been betrayed, chewed up and spat out by Jessica Rowe.
It was a typical morning like any morning where you have to do a radio show that night. You know the drill: get up, peruse the internet for anything that looks interesting, then when you don’t find it, you kick back with a cup of coffee and watch the morning news on the telly. This is where I would meet Ms Rowe.
Our weekly rendezvous. She would do most of the talking, I would do all the listening, and we would both finish up 30 minutes later with big toothy grins on our cheesy heads. It was a win-win relationship. She powered through the news, marched on through business and stormed on into sports. This is usually where I would wake up.
Today, she seemed keen to talk tennis. And who wouldn’t be? The Australian Open was on her network 22 hours a day and we were about to enter the finals. Of course, this meant we hadn’t seen an Australian player for a week, but every negative has a positive: while no Aussies in the big games means we have to subdue our patriotic spirit, it also means we therefore get to see some bloody good tennis.
Back at Rowe-central (as I used to like to call it), Jessica turned to the expert opinions of a bloke whose name escapes me but I think it might be Tom. The Journo-Maybe-Known-As-Tom (the celeb mags call him JOMKAT now) was alive and alert (but not alarmed), reviewing the games held the night before and previewing the upcoming matches for this particular day. He made special mention of a lass by the name of Ana Ivanovic, and for two reasons.
Firstly, she had beaten her last opponent through a combination of superior tennis skills and squeaky shoes. Secondly, she was now into the finals and was going to play the loud and, well, loud Maria Sharapova.
Upon announcing this match, the telecast crossed back to the studio for a response. Jessica grinned at me and proudly stated that Ivanovic playing against Sharapova would be a case of the Squeaker versus the Shreiker. A joke that had Jomkat laughing, Jessica’s teeth beaming and my head spinning.
Jomkat in effect congratulated Jessica, claiming that he hadn’t heard that before, and yes, Jess, that was a good one. Again, the shot went to Jess, who at first couldn’t even be seen through her pride, oozing out as it was over her funny line. She then finally calmed down enough to move the conversation on to another match.
This is where I felt nauseous. I didn’t know why for certain, but instinctively I grabbed a bucket, and then stumbled back onto my computer and onto the internet for an answer. And soon enough I had found it. Right there on the Sydney Morning Herald website (www.smh.com.au). The sport section, the tennis, and the headline – THE FINAL: SQUEAKER V SHRIEKER.
Yes, folks, I had witnessed plagiarism right there on my television (unless Jessica and the SMH both thought this up independently at similar times and it was only a coincidence, in which case when I use the word ‘plagiarism,’ I mean ‘fun happy times for everyone!’) To me the thing that made the crime even more horrible was the fact that Jomkat gave her the opportunity to reveal her sources. He in effect said: “I haven’t heard that, I like it.”
She COULD have replied with: “Yeah me too, that’s why I borrowed it from the Sydney Morning Herald.”
But what she said was: nothing. Laughed it up and moved along.
If there is one thing that university has taught me, it is that plagiarizing someone else’s work and getting busted for it is bad.
Jessica, it’s like this. If two community radio volunteer presenters do a three hour show each week where about 96.2% of the material is 'borrowed' from somewhere or someone else, than that’s one thing (no one listens = no one busts you). However, if you work for a television network that beams you into homes right across the state, and then borrow someone else’s line from a newspaper that is read right around the state, then that’s another thing altogether.
Jessica, get out of my lounge room. It’s over between us.
Post note: I was going to write up some details about the radio show we did, but as you can see, I am way too emotional at the moment to think of anything else. Break-ups are always hard to deal with. If you want some Funky and The Jazzman radio action, I suggest you go to last week’s blog and read it twice. Ought to do the trick.
Chow4now,
Funky and The Jazzman.
It was a typical morning like any morning where you have to do a radio show that night. You know the drill: get up, peruse the internet for anything that looks interesting, then when you don’t find it, you kick back with a cup of coffee and watch the morning news on the telly. This is where I would meet Ms Rowe.
Our weekly rendezvous. She would do most of the talking, I would do all the listening, and we would both finish up 30 minutes later with big toothy grins on our cheesy heads. It was a win-win relationship. She powered through the news, marched on through business and stormed on into sports. This is usually where I would wake up.
Today, she seemed keen to talk tennis. And who wouldn’t be? The Australian Open was on her network 22 hours a day and we were about to enter the finals. Of course, this meant we hadn’t seen an Australian player for a week, but every negative has a positive: while no Aussies in the big games means we have to subdue our patriotic spirit, it also means we therefore get to see some bloody good tennis.
Back at Rowe-central (as I used to like to call it), Jessica turned to the expert opinions of a bloke whose name escapes me but I think it might be Tom. The Journo-Maybe-Known-As-Tom (the celeb mags call him JOMKAT now) was alive and alert (but not alarmed), reviewing the games held the night before and previewing the upcoming matches for this particular day. He made special mention of a lass by the name of Ana Ivanovic, and for two reasons.
Firstly, she had beaten her last opponent through a combination of superior tennis skills and squeaky shoes. Secondly, she was now into the finals and was going to play the loud and, well, loud Maria Sharapova.
Upon announcing this match, the telecast crossed back to the studio for a response. Jessica grinned at me and proudly stated that Ivanovic playing against Sharapova would be a case of the Squeaker versus the Shreiker. A joke that had Jomkat laughing, Jessica’s teeth beaming and my head spinning.
Jomkat in effect congratulated Jessica, claiming that he hadn’t heard that before, and yes, Jess, that was a good one. Again, the shot went to Jess, who at first couldn’t even be seen through her pride, oozing out as it was over her funny line. She then finally calmed down enough to move the conversation on to another match.
This is where I felt nauseous. I didn’t know why for certain, but instinctively I grabbed a bucket, and then stumbled back onto my computer and onto the internet for an answer. And soon enough I had found it. Right there on the Sydney Morning Herald website (www.smh.com.au). The sport section, the tennis, and the headline – THE FINAL: SQUEAKER V SHRIEKER.
Yes, folks, I had witnessed plagiarism right there on my television (unless Jessica and the SMH both thought this up independently at similar times and it was only a coincidence, in which case when I use the word ‘plagiarism,’ I mean ‘fun happy times for everyone!’) To me the thing that made the crime even more horrible was the fact that Jomkat gave her the opportunity to reveal her sources. He in effect said: “I haven’t heard that, I like it.”
She COULD have replied with: “Yeah me too, that’s why I borrowed it from the Sydney Morning Herald.”
But what she said was: nothing. Laughed it up and moved along.
If there is one thing that university has taught me, it is that plagiarizing someone else’s work and getting busted for it is bad.
Jessica, it’s like this. If two community radio volunteer presenters do a three hour show each week where about 96.2% of the material is 'borrowed' from somewhere or someone else, than that’s one thing (no one listens = no one busts you). However, if you work for a television network that beams you into homes right across the state, and then borrow someone else’s line from a newspaper that is read right around the state, then that’s another thing altogether.
Jessica, get out of my lounge room. It’s over between us.
Post note: I was going to write up some details about the radio show we did, but as you can see, I am way too emotional at the moment to think of anything else. Break-ups are always hard to deal with. If you want some Funky and The Jazzman radio action, I suggest you go to last week’s blog and read it twice. Ought to do the trick.
Chow4now,
Funky and The Jazzman.
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